Tanner took a sheet of paper, and looking up his note of the times it had taken him to walk the various distances, and estimating for the rowing, he made a statement something like a railway time table. When he had finished he found that the total estimated time which the journeys should have taken worked out at practically that mentioned by Austin. So far, then, the story hung together.
Next with regard to outside testimony. What confirmation would it be reasonable to expect?
From the attendant at the boat club pavilion he should be able to learn if Austin did take out a boat, and if so, at what hour. Possibly other persons in the club might have been present, and could substantiate this point. The attendant would also know the hour at which he was called out on Austin’s return. The Drews would certainly have remarked the time of Austin’s call, and lastly, the latter’s own servants would be sure to remember the hour of his return. There should be ample—indeed overwhelming—evidence of the times at which Austin set out with his boat and returned.
So far so good, but it was clear to Tanner that if he could get no further corroboration than this, the whole alibi was worthless. One point—but that a vital point—would remain unsubstantiated. Austin might have left and returned at the hours he stated, but where was he between them? Did he go to the Abbey and the Franklyns’? If he did, he could not have been to Luce Manor, and necessarily was innocent. How was this to be ascertained?
There were, of course, the footprints. That these were made by Austin’s shoes was beyond question. The fact that the latter were new prevented the marks showing the individuality that might otherwise have been expected, but against that, at one point on the edge of the left sole there was a slight dint—caused possibly by striking a stone—and this dint was faithfully reproduced in the prints. It was too much to suppose that two separate pairs of similar shoes should have similar dints.
But two other points were by no means beyond question. Though it was certain that Austin’s shoes had passed over that ground, how could it be proved that Austin was then wearing them? How, again, could it be known that they were made at the time stated? Could not Austin really have been at Luce Manor on that evening, and have made the tracks to the Abbey at some other time? Tanner was puzzled. He did not see how this point was to be cleared up.
he began his investigation at the pavilion of the Halford boat club. It was quite a large place, situated on a kind of bay on the river, just below the town. The house was built of red brick, with heavy overhanging eaves, and a kind of piazza in front. Before the piazza and stretching a good way past it in each direction, was the wharf wall, with several broad flights of steps leading to the river. Out on the water were moored some dozen or more boats, and others were in the railed-off space surrounding the house. Tanner pushed open the gate of this railing and entered.
At first he could see no one about, then, as he walked round the house, he came on a youngish man in a cap and a blue jersey, who was washing out one of the boats. He hailed him, and they got into conversation in a leisurely way. Tanner praised the house and general appearance of the place, and then gradually came to the object of his call.
He had no trouble in obtaining the required information. The caretaker remembered Austin taking out the boat on the night. He confirmed the latter’s statement on all points, and was quite certain of the hours he had left and returned.
“Mr. Ponson was in a rare old hurry to be away,” went on the man. “The boat he wanted was out, but it was just coming round the bend there, and I told him to wait a moment and he could have it. Well, he did wait, but he was all jumping like a hen on a hot griddle to be off. ‘Hang it, Stevens,’ he says, ‘are those people going to be all night?’ But Mr. Brocklehurst, that was him who had out the boat, was sculling in quite fast. Well, sir, I fixed up the boat, and let him have it, and he rowed off like a blooming paddle steamer. I couldn’t but laugh when I watched him going down the river.”
“What time did you say that was?”
“It was . Mr. Brocklehurst got ashore about , and it took me about five minutes to get the boat squared up.”
“And you say he rooted you out of bed when he got back?”
“Yes, sir. It was a , and I had just put out the light.”
Tanner was nothing if not thorough. He went to the police station, learnt that Mr. Brocklehurst was a solicitor with an office in the main street, and promptly called on him. In five minutes he had his information. Mr. Brocklehurst had reached the pavilion about , for he recollected that as he had arrived at his house the town clock had struck .
The inspector then turned his steps to Elm Cottage, the residence of
